


Only 24 Hours

by Thaliel (Alodia)



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gift Work, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, not as explicit as normal tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 22:25:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alodia/pseuds/Thaliel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard desperately needs to take a break, and Garrus will force her to take one if necessary. </p><p>A gift for my beautiful sunfish of a friend Stephie. <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only 24 Hours

Spending time with Shepard aboard the Normandy was difficult, at best. There was always a task for her to complete, something for her to see, someone she should talk to. But there came a time when even her infinitely patient turian boyfriend had to put his foot down.

It had been three weeks and four days since they had spent the night together, and exactly 4 months five days and thirteen hours since their last shore leave. He wouldn’t have a mind to complain, except for the fact that Shepard _refused_ to show too much affection while aboard the Normandy. She claimed it made the crew uncomfortable, which he really couldn’t call her out on.

While her inner circle was a generally accepting, there were still people in and among the rest of the crew who found their relationship at least odd, if not distasteful. Garrus just ignored them, but Lucille didn’t have the option. She had to maintain the respect of her crew if they were to function properly, and unfortunately for him that meant keeping their relations to a minimum. It was much easier for them if they believe he was just a passing curiosity.

Who hadn’t fantasized about being with a turian at least once?

Garrus rolled his eyes as he walked, an exasperated sigh reverberating through his chest threaded with sub-harmonics ripe with distaste.

At the moment, he could care less about the crew’s disapproval and xenophobia. It had been so long since he and Shepard has spent time together, he was embarrassed to admit he craved her attention. Just one decent conversation, even.

He managed to track her down to her quarters that evening, hunched over her desk and glaring at a datapad. She had spent the last three nights going over pad after pad of data Liara had given her, working tirelessly to make sure their next mission went off without a hitch. Of course, that rarely happened no matter how much she prepared, but that never stopped her.

“Shepard,” he purred, attempting to be as convincing as possible.

She glanced up from her datapad briefly, “Yeah, Garrus?”

He sighed inwardly, “You need to take a break.”

“No I don’t,” she scoffed, “I don’t have _time_ for a break.”

This time, he didn’t bother keeping in his sigh, “Shepard…”

“Garrus…” she mocked.

He tilted his head to look at her, trying to decide if his next move would be worth her ire. He could always just…. Force her to take a break. Have Alenko take over the ship for a while so he could steal her away. She would go kicking a screaming, but he could always carry her over his shoulder. It’s not like she would hurt him anyway.

He turned abruptly, ignoring Shepard’s noise of confusion in search of Alenko. She was too wrapped up in her work to consider following after him. He stalked until he found the Canadian at his station, typing away and scrunching his brow at something.

“Alenko,” Garrus called, short and clipped.

The man started, “Ah, Garrus. I didn’t hear you. How can I help?”

“I need you to keep an eye on the ship while Shepard’s gone.”

“She’s leaving?” he nearly stumbled with surprise.

Garrus sighed, “She can’t _leave_ , but she needs a break. 24 hours sound ok to you?”

Alenko nodded numbly, not willing to argue with the clearly agitated turian.

“Good. Let the helmsman know they’re to direct all calls to you for the interim. She’ll be back tomorrow.”

Garrus turned again, leaving Alenko confused, but willing to follow through. Shepard taking some time to relax could only be good for her, and therefore the ship. They had a couple of days until they reached their target cluster anyway so the man didn’t mind doing him the favor.

Garrus walked back through the ship to find Shepard again, and found her still at her desk, but much more responsive than when he was there earlier.

“Garrus!” she called, “What’s this about Alenko redirecting all of my calls?”

“Pardon the… insubordination,” he said carefully, “but you need a break, badly Shepard. You’ve been going nonstop for three days not. By the time we reach Beta Tau you’ll be worn out and friend before we even land.”

Shepard had known him long enough to catch the edge of worry in his sub-harmonics, the subtle shift of his mandibles that said he was being genuine, not an ass.

She softened just slightly, “Who said I was bringing you anyway?”

Garrus’s mandibles flicked out and he snorted, “Right, like you were going to bring someone else?”

Her shoulders twitched with a shrug, “You never know. Javik has been getting rather grouchy, maybe killing something will make him feel better.”

“Maybe…” He trailed off and walked towards the commander, his chest rumbling so deep she could feel it in her chest. “You need to take a break Luci.”

Lucille sighed, “I know, I just… I don’t want to. What if something happens, again? And this time something in all this paperwork can actually help?”

“Luci,” Garrus stepped towards her and put one large hand on her cheek, fingers tangling in her hair and mussing the bun she had it in as his thumb swept over her faint scars, “You can’t possibly know that, and you’re no good to anyone stressed and tired. You’re better off to them rested and relaxed than tense, tired, and knowledgeable about things which may or _may not_ help.”

She reached around him and finally surrendered to his ministrations, letting down her bun so he could run his fingers though the full length of her hair and leaning into his hand. She placed one smaller hand over his own, her five fingers tangling with his three, slotting together in a way which spoke to their time together.

They had figured everything out together, how to overcome their differing biology, discovering foods they could both eat and enjoy, and slotting together both physically and emotionally. He had discovered quickly how to read her facial expressions and spent countless hours sitting across from her and running through turian emotions. He showed her what every mandible flare, plate shift and tilt of his brow meant. They went over story after story and situation after situation until Shepard could glance at him and see how he was feeling. She was one of the few people on the Normandy who had taken the time to recognize turian emotions.

It was a large part of the reason he felt so alone without her. No one knew what he was thinking, could understand when he needed to be left alone. He had to put so much effort into his upper voice because humans couldn’t recognize the meanings behind his various sub-harmonics.

Although, he could admit there were some advantages there. He could talk of Shepard freely in anyone’s presence, downplaying his top voice but letting his sub-harmonics run rampant in a way he never could around other turians. The deep rumble always made Shepard smile, and Garrus took secret pleasure in the small release.

It was a deep throbbing sound which rumbled through anyone near him like bass, which was unsettling for humans but entirely harmless. A turian would be scandalized that he let his emotions show so obviously, his deep devotion evident in the pitch and his love making the found fluctuate and move.

One day he would explain to Shepard just how deeply he felt for her, but for the moment, they needed to concentrate on saving the world from reapers, not on mating or settling down. They had laid the ground work for their relationship, and for now that would have to be enough for him.

The deep throbbing started up deep in his chest and Shepard smiled, she did, after all, have a basic understanding of what it meant. Happiness, contentment, joy.

Garrus leaned in and ran his forehead across her in a quick turian kiss before pressing his plates gently against her lips. It was different from what either of them was used to, but it was unique to them.

He ran metallic yet warm plates with a soft give ran across her lips, hers conforming to the edges of the plates and his pressing in gently, careful not to catch her skin of nip her too hard.

Shepard leaned back first, “Are you _sure_ it’s all right for me to take a break?”

“Do you trust Kaiden?” He asked, voice rumbling with amusement.

“I… Well _yeah._ ”

“Then stop worrying, it’s only 24 hours.”

Shepard looked at anywhere but at her oversized boyfriend, “All right…”

Garrus’s mandibles moved into a smile, flicking out on one side with his head tilted. “Good. I have, er, plans made.”

“Plans?” Shepard ran her hands on the inside of his cowl, pressing gently into the flesh there through his casual clothing, “What plans?”

 He shook his head, attempting to hide his smile, “It’s a surprise.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Shepard,” he admonished, “Really. It’s a surprise.”

“Can I get a hint?” She asked, head tilting to the side as she slid her hands down his keel bone and then to his sensitive waist. She gripped the flesh there hard, making sure his thicker skin registered the feeling.

Garrus twitched and then smiled down at her, “That’s not playing fair.”

She smiled, eyes widened with false innocence, “Whatever do you mean?”

He just chuckled, “You’ll find out what it is with time.”

She settled down, back into her chair and finally letting her shoulders relax. He watched as the short line of her shoulders slumped and the lines around her eyes eased. He hadn’t seen her take even a short break in what seemed like an age. She had kept him up at night with the light of her comms glowing in the dark, always sending some message or reading some correspondence. She _deplored_ politics, but she always did her best at them anyway and it always required almost everything she had to give.

He felt his own shoulders lose tension as she relaxed, and once she had settled fully it was easy to maneuver her to the bed, pulling off the outer layer of her casuals until she was in a dark sports bra and a matching set of panties.

He settled her in on her stomach with soft touches and gentle murmurs that swept over her like a wave, pushing her under until she was floating on a cloud of deep reverberations and the light touch of talons inside gloves. Garrus pulled off one glove and then the other, revealing finely boned hands tipped in blunted talons and covered with flexible plates at the joints with thick pads at the bottoms of his fingers. He knew Shepard favored light scratches across her back.

He started with her lower back, gentle circles which started small and moved outwards, his weight pulling down the bed at her side until he finally settled, straddled over her hips with his hands stretched in front of him

Her groans were music to his ears after their long absence, after the long absence of anything sounding even vaguely like pleasure from her. Garrus bit down on his tongue, his mouth rapidly filling with saliva and the plates around his pelvis loosening and preparing to slide out of place and reveal the tender flesh beneath.

He shifted over her and she smiled but didn’t comment, she was well aware by now of his little habits when it came to his arousal.

His hands ghosted over her shoulders then, talons glancing over her shoulder blades before he shifted, leaning forward so he could press the pads of his fingers underneath her shoulder blades and work at the knots there. Many nights hunched over her desk had made it so there were at least one or two permanent knots which had taken up residence there.

His sub-harmonics dipped low, lower than she could hear, but soothing as it vibrated through her bones. Too low to hear but loud enough to feel as she winced through the initial pushes. It had been some time since he had been able to do this for her. It had taken more time and research than he would care to admit, but once he had mastered the art of massaging a human, he tried to do it as much as he could for Lucille.

He took note of the freckles which ghosted across her shoulders and pushed his fingers there before moving lightly down her back, using the barest of pressure now so she relaxed into the bed, lids drifting closed over tired blue eyes.

“Was this the surprise?” She asked, voice thick and sleepy.

Garrus shook his head, “No, this is just because.”

She smiled, her expression light and unclouded, miles away from her problems and responsibilities, “Thank you, then. This is…” She sighed, “Wonderful.”

He rumbled a chuckle which shook lightly through her back, “That was the idea.”

She opened her eyes only to narrow them at him over her shoulder, “Smug.”

“If you say so.”

She went quiet when his hands dipped lower than before ghosting just above the curve of her behind and tickling the sensitive flesh there. Shepard groaned, different this time, deeper and more animal. One lone mandible flicked out with a smile as his brows lifted with satisfaction, he had hit her sweet spot. He tickled over the base of her spine, talons and fingers so light she could barely feel his touch.

Still, Garrus could tell he had done it just right, her muscles jumped under his hands like she had been stuck with lightning and her breath hitching in time.

“Garrus…” she groaned.

“Shh.”

She sighed deeply, again, resigned. There was nothing for it but to let Garrus have his way. He would do things at his pace, no faster and no slower. She had just started drifting again, afloat on a cloud of firm circles and gentle caresses, when he leaned down and brushed the surface of his plates along her shoulder bone in an approximation of a kiss.

She grumbled in agreement, shifting lightly to give him more access to her skin. Garrus grinned then and pushed a talon, just sharp enough to cut through fabric, into her bra and ripped it clean in half.

Lucille sat up, “Garrus! What the hell.”

He pushed her back down into the bed, “Shepard.”

She frowned, “What are you doing?”

“Well I had rather thought to ravish you.”

She blinked and a light blush colored her skin so deep her freckles almost disappeared, “Oh. Well. Continue then.”

“Oh, I intend to,” he purred, rolling his words and drawing them out so they rumbled along with his sub-harmonics. He knew he got his point across when she shivered beneath him.

Garrus leaned over again and brushed his plates over the place he had done so previously and then up to her neck. He snaked his tongue out to lathe roughly against the soft skin at the nape of her neck. Shepard melted into the mattress and wiggled beneath him. Garrus lifted his hips so she could flip over and pull at his cowl so his plates crashed against her lips.

He chuckled deep, “Eager.”

“Have to take advantage where I can,” she purred.

“It has been some time,” he sighed.

Shepard nodded and began to pull at the zippers which divided his casuals into parts, starting with a ring around his cowl and then one each down his sides. Garrus’s fingers joined hers as they pulled and stretched, quickly revealing metallic plates and soft hide.

Shepard pressed kisses wherever she could and dragged her nails across the flesh at his waist and the sides of his neck, pulling him to her to bite where she could. He hissed when her teeth scraped against him, the friction shooting right through him and setting his nerve endings on fire.

He nudged her chin up with his own and returned the favor, nipping at her neck and again snaking his tongue out to flick at her ear in the same moment as he pushed his hips against hers.

Shepard gladly pushed back, moving so she was arched and pushing up into him. Garrus groaned and dropped his head, brow plates brushing against her shoulder as he pushed back. His plates had moved entirely so he was exposed to the cool air and he could feel himself pushing free as she moved against him.

Her hands ghosted down to palm him, fingers confidently navigating his alien body, pushing into the soft skin normally behind protective plating and coaxing him out. He slid free easily once she had her hands on him, aided by his own natural lubricant and her nimble fingers.

Garrus sighed and pushed his hips again against her, his weight balanced so he was up on his forearms and the long line of his body fell into hers from their waists down. Lucille smiled with triumph and pulled him down so she could nip at his neck again.

Garrus grunted then and pulled at her panties which she was, infuriatingly so, still wearing. He looked at her briefly for permission and when she nodded and shore them open at the sides as he had with her bra.

Lucille chuckled low and went back to scratching him at the waist and lifting her hips. She was ready quickly, as she always was after getting a massage. Garrus shook his head but was happy to oblige, pushing into her slowly, allowing her to adjust as he went along.

Lucille sighed quietly, the sound barely reaching Garrus’s ears, but he relished it anyway. It had been way too _fucking_ long since they had even an hour together, let alone 24 of them. It was abundantly clear they both needed this, the air around them growing thick and warm and they both moved. Her hips moved in synch with his and he could feel her quickly growing tighter around him, her nails digging into the skin between his plates harder than before as her hips stuttered and her breath caught.

He leaned his head down and nipped at her neck before he felt her convulse around him, her fingers threatening to pull him apart as she tried to keep herself together. He kept his movements steady as each wave washed over her, her cries like music to his ears as he raced for his own inevitable ending.

He managed to keep himself together for only a few moments before his own hips lots their rhythm and she was chanting in his ear, encouraging him to join her as her nails scraped over his sides and set sparks racing beneath his skin and rattling around his plates.

He did as she asked, a groan caught in his chest and sub-harmonics rumbling loudly enough to rattle Luci’s lungs.

They took a moment to breath, his chest still rumbling, though less violently.

“Well, I _suppose_ this was a good idea,” she admitted, smiling at the ceiling.

Garrus laughed, “I always know best.”


End file.
